


Twin Size Mattress

by kniche



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cuban Lance (Voltron), I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mutual Pining, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, i dont know what im doing lol, i love 2 suffer, non binary pidge, rivals to friends to lovers, the good stuff's gonna come later, this is gona be fun bois
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9171862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kniche/pseuds/kniche
Summary: "At the time, Keith could only sit there and think of what to do. It wasn’t easy, seeing that his choices were strictly limited. Bring him into the police? That’s what we would call being an asshole. Plus he was an accomplice. So no. Leave him on the side of the road? Again, being asshole. And the last option, which he was very hesitant on, was probably the best choice he had. Bring him home and pray to god nobody went into the spare room."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi !  
> I'm Kniche and this was the short story that took me like 5 months to write bc i procrastinate too much !!  
> Anyways, I really hope you like this, and I'm gona try my best to get a new chapter out every week or so. Peace out.

There was one thing Keith had always accepted. That being, his parents were never coming back for him.

Oh, how he wished that when he were younger, one day he’d wake up and they’d just be sitting in the kitchen. Having a cup of coffee and discussing some lame, domestic plans for the weekend. Acting so natural that it would have seemed as if they had always belonged there. Though now that he was much older, Keith had learned to suck it up and get it through his head that it just wasn’t going to happen. If his parents didn’t want him back when he was a cute little baby, why would they want him now? His thinking was just so flawed.

Thinking about the topic not only made him overwhelmingly depressed but it also gave him the overwhelming feeling like he had lied to himself his entire childhood. Because how many times had he begged for literally anyone to come break down his door and declare that they were going be a family together? Too many to count.

Whenever he felt the thick fog of depression forming around him, it made sense for him to take his bike from the garage for a little midnight joyride to clear his mind. It was proven to wisp away all of his problems in a flash. He had a feeling that Pam, his adoptive mom wouldn’t be very happy with finding her motorcycle gone at midnight, but in all honestly, tonight was an emergency.

Without a another thought, he threw his helmet onto his head, ignited the engine that roared to life and was out of view from the house in the matter of seconds. The low rumbling and the feeling of his jacket hitting his side as he sped to the road helped ease Keith’s nerves as he took a large inhale through his nose and out through his mouth. It really wasn’t always this bad. Most days he would think about his birth family and get on with life, but tonight Keith just felt a little… claustrophobic? Suffocated more like.

It wasn’t like his house wasn’t big enough or his room was too small, or anything. The house was a plain, normal, house in the middle of a suburban, white neighborhood, and by no means small, but it recently it felt just like living in a box. Walls closed in on him everywhere he went, and it definitely didn’t help that Keith had nowhere to go during the days, resulting in him staring at his bedroom walls and his computer screen for days on end. It was only a year ago that he had started sneaking out of the house to seek something, anything, other than the suffocating, eggshell walls he had to stare at all day. Resulting into what he made into a bad habit of going out late at night. 

Turning the corner, he made the decision to loop around the town square and stop in front of the 24-hour café called DeMichaels. He sat there for a moment as he leaned to put his head down on his handles just to think without the engine scrambling his thoughts. The sound of lingering police sirens and the flickering of lights of the square flooded the air. The sounds of the night that Keith wouldn’t be able to hear in his house. Besides from the night’s sounds the square was deadly silent. Keith could finally breath a little better as he quickly exhaled again. The silence soothed his thoughts to a low murmur and soon enough he was able to pick his head up to look inside the café, which seemed to be nothing but a ghost town, as was the rest of the street.

An occasional car would pass by, and a surprising amount all seemed to come around the corner at the same time. ‘Some real road warriors,’ Keith thought to himself as the tires squealed against the ground and flead.

What finally disturbed the silence after the ten minutes he’d been sitting there was something he couldn’t see but made a loud metallic bang from the alleyway perpendicular to him. 

He turned his head to try to look into the back but could only see the alley’s brick back staring him down. Another loud bang took him aback for a moment, sounding like it came from around the alley’s corner. A voice shot out from the dark that sounded a lot like, “Oh shit!” So curiously Keith hunched over the handles, trying to see around the corner but could see nothing. 

It wasn’t until he heard the tapping of running feat that he that he felt he was probably witnessing a murder. Meaning that he should leave. Immediately. Keith kicked up his kick stand. The tapping got closer and closer, as did the sound of more cursing under whoever’s breath. All until he was able to see a figure running straight towards him, followed by the sound of a more heavy pair of feet. A set of feet belonging to a… policeman. Why wasn’t he moving yet? Shit, was it past curfew? Nevermind that, a guy, undeniably his age, apparently took the opportunity of Keith’s already running engine, throwing himself onto the bike, clenching Keith’s chest, and nearly knocking the wind out of him. If it wasn’t for the fact that it looked like they were both about to be arrested he would’ve thrown the guy from the seat.

“FUCKING. DRIVE.”

It took a second for him to regain his thoughts but Keith, not having to be told twice, whipped him and his passenger in a big U shape, leaving the policeman stranded at the curb. Adrenaline rushed through his veins- it all happened all so quickly that the only thought through his head at the moment was, “FUCK”, very repeatedly. 

Once the two escaped from the square and into the more rural area where he lived, Keith had the sudden realization of “What am I doing??” and pulled over to the side of the road in a screeching halt. The guy behind him loosened his grip on Keith’s waist and looked up in confusion.

“What’r you doin?? They cuold be righ beind uss! An- And!” The voice would’ve sounded smooth if it wasn’t for the slurs that came out of the guy’s mouth. Keith grabbed his helmet, pulling it off, turning around to look this damsel in distress in the face.

“Okay, look, first off- shut up. Second, are you a fucking idiot by any chance??” Keith’s voice shook with rage and sarcasm as did the rest of his body. The boy looked as if he was submerged in thought, or searching Keith’s face for something other than anger. His face cracked into a large grin.

“Uhh, I knwo ya are but w-what’m’n I?” 

Too many questions were pummeling Keith’s head. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a calming breath in.

“Look, at least tell me what your name is?” Keith said in a more, calm(ish), though still annoyed tone. He sighed. Be patient. He’s obviously drunk just- chill out. “Or at least your address?” The boy giggled.

“‘M Lance, n you’re…” He stopped and squinted his eyes and then looked him up and down. “Not m’ sister….” He laughed again and brushed hair away from his forehead. “Not like ya look like my sister-- An’ you got a fuckin’ mullet. Damn dude livin’ in the passt much?” Keith only furrowed his brow as Lance outstretched his hand to try and pet his head. Sadly the hand was met with Keith slapping it away from his face. Almost immediately as Lance’s arm fell to his side the giggles ceased and Keith felt his body lean limp against his. Completely out cold. 

Overall, Keith wasn’t much angry but more... confused. What was he supposed to do with a drunk seventeen year old, passed out on the back of his bike? Like if Keith had known that he had a time limit on the kid he would’ve talked a lot faster to try to get his address- which at this moment, was way more important than his name. 

At the time, Keith could only sit there and think of what to do. It wasn’t easy, seeing that his choices were strictly limited. Bring him into the police? That’s what we would call being an asshole. Plus he was an accomplice. So no. Leave him on the side of the road? Again, being asshole. And the last option, which he was very hesitant on, was probably the best choice he had. Bring him home and pray to god nobody went into the spare room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> operation; maybe this isn't so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I'd update once every week ? yeah me too, I'll try and write and update more often from now on OwO  
> I also want to say thank you for all your kind word's in the comments ! They've really been a confidence boost while writing this, so this chapter is like 4, almost 5 times longer than the last lol. I hope you all like the direction I'm taking this.

Lance woke up out of a sound sleep. The sounds of his mother’s vacuum made it’s way from under the door and into his ear drums. So instinctively, he grabbed the nearest pillow and smothered his head into the mattress with it.

Any hope of getting sleep was now lost. He grunted and reached out of the covers to grab his phone on the nightstand. But of course he must've pushed it off the surface in the night. He grunted again louder as he poked his head from the blankets and almost had to hiss at the light that assaulted his eyes. It being so bright that Lance just so happened to notice that he had the worst headache he had ever had in his seventeen years of life.

It took him about twenty more seconds just to get his eyes to adjust, but once his surroundings became more clear it was pretty obvious this wasn't his house- let alone the house he was in last night, unless they just had an extremely plain, very… eggshell room, that Lance just didn’t have the pleasure of viewing.

He thought again for an explanation then smirked, nodding to himself.

Definitely got laid. Though again, most likely not, seeing that he was now sitting on a twin mattress. One that could barely hold him, yet alone another person. He shook his head to himself for even supporting such an idea.

Lance heard the sound of high heels tapping lightly down a flight of stairs and across a wooden floor somewhere on the lower level after he heard the vacuum cease.

Now, one thing about Lance was, he wasn’t exactly the smartest person. Street-wise, that was. But he knew well enough not to leave the bed.

Something just told him that he wasn't supposed to be there, and could only imagine what kind of trouble he’d be in if he had snuck into a random, unexpecting, family’s house and passed out in their guest room. He could see it all playing out in his mind. Oh the horror.

“Keith?”

A woman’s high pitched voice made Lance’s body tense up, staying perfectly still- making sure to not so much as let the bed squeak beneath him.

“Keith, we’re going out- so be back in an hour or so?”

A gravelly voice sounded from the other room, which sounded like an agreeable grunt in reply to the woman.

_Keith_. Lance inwardly groaned at the name.

You could say that he just didn't have much luck with people named Keith. Seeing as one swiped away his chances of being one of seven people in the country to be introduced into a NASA funded space program to help in the future of young space explorers and astrophysicists, yhatta, yhatta, yhatta.

All because _Keith_ did four points better on the entrance exam test. And that's not even what upset Lance the most. It was more the fact that Keith was there for sixteen days, and was then dropped from the program because of discipline issues. Instead of picking their next best choice from the region qualifiers, (Lance) NASA decided to literally pick a name from a hat and call it quits. Lance, sadly, didn't get his name picked.

So, every _Keith_ on the planet could actually fuck off.

As soon as the downstairs door closed Lance thought himself safe until an unexpected thump from the room next to his sounded through the wall. Followed by rummaging of some sort.

“Dammit.” He mouthed in panic. Lance searched for someplace in the room to hide or really just anything that would conceal him in general. But as footsteps grew closer to the room, Lance, in his bout of panic, measly threw the sheets and covers back over his head, forcing himself to breathe as slowly as he possibly could. Which was pretty dang impossible, seeing his heartrate was going a million miles an hour. All of this just to make sure it still looked like he was asleep. Lance sincerely hoped this was just some weird, sick, joke Pidge was pulling so they could all laugh about it later. But as much as he wished for that to be the truth, Lance was just grasping at straws.

The door to the room clicked open, and Lance almost had to hold his breath from the anticipation.

Keith let out a quiet sigh as he peered at the lump in the bed, leaning himself against the door frame probably thinking to himself, ‘How did I get into this’. But more importantly, how do you even explain something like this to someone? It wasn’t like there was a wikihow article about this sort of stuff to help him.

He took a step forward, hands sweating, wanting to shake Lance’s shoulder firmly as to wake him up but gently enough not to accidentally spook him or anything. Why was this so difficult?

Lance tossed towards Keith with eyes still closed. Trying his best to convince the other he was still asleep, parting his mouth slightly for the effect of it. Damn, he should’ve joined drama when he had the chance.

Keith looked down at the boy’s face and his heart jumped out of… well… most likely nervousness. He swallowed a lump in his throat and rethought his methods on how exactly he was going to explain this situation to some hungover highschooler sleeping in his guest room.

Coffee.

Coffee’s good for hangovers right? Or was it tea? No, it was definitely coffee.

Just, uh, explain everything that just happened in the past twelve hours, give him some coffee and take him home… yeah… genius Keith genius.

The only thing holding him back was seeing this going one of two ways; waking up the guy, him flipping out, and then afterwards Lance would hate him and maybe even yell/threaten to sue or call the police, and the last thing Keith wanted was for the police to show up and then his fosters would come home. Boom grounded from virtually everything ever until he was a legal adult.

He hated to admit it but Keith did have to say that Lance look very familiar… so as destiny would have it, Lance probably went to school with him. Which opened up a whole new chapter in, ‘Things That Could Possibly Go Wrong With This Situation’- By Keith Kogane.

Why did this even matter? Who really cared that Keith kidnapped a K.O.ed kid out of an alleyway?

Maybe it was the people who had those high standards for him to succeed in school, with not just grades but also the need for Keith to be socially accepted?

The good grades he could handle, though it was pretty hard to talk to people when the entire school knows you to be some delinquent who got kicked out a scholarship because he bad mouthed an instructor.

Though people saw him like that, Keith didn’t feel like he was _disliked_ in school. He would describe himself as a pretty decent guy, if not, just slightly below the radar to a large majority of the underclassmen-- but unfortunately he knew for a fact that his teachers didn't like him much at all. He skipped classes, got sent to the principal’s on multiple occasions, and even cussed out a few teachers in his high school career.

And if it somehow got around that he had low key kidnapped some guy? Oh boy. That’d just be icing on top of the cake. Because wasn’t kidnapping a felony?

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, his eyes drawn to Lance’s freckled face like a magnet.

The other way this could go is… well… it’d be all fine in the end and they’d never see each other again. So for the time being, Keith set his eyes on that outcome more than the other.

He took a deep breath before making the executive decision to nudge the boy’s shoulder. Another grunt and Lance wrinkled his nose. Even though it was completely an act, Lance was pretty good at doing whatever he was doing. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times to be reintroduced back into the light.

He stared down to greet this Keith’s feet which wore socks covered in tiny cows with space helmets. His first thoughts were along the lines of, ‘How adorable’. Though his second thought came when he looked up to greet his Keith- and it was exactly the Keith he _didn’t_ want to be standing at the bedside.

Lance immediately felt stupid. Because of course it was going to be _that_ Keith. Of course it just had to be the mullet-head, know-it-all because, how many other Keiths lived in this town anyways? Answer: one, because who names their kid Keith. The only one in town and he was looking him. Both of them wearing the same wide-eyed expression though Keith obviously wore it better, being the calmest between the two.

Subsequently all this thinking and staring was before Lance felt the lower half of his body slowly sliding off the other side of the bed and onto the floor. His other half following to the ground with a huge bang, which was the sound of Lance’s skull giving the nightstand a stinging kiss. And as if it never happened, Lance shot up from the ground, gripping the side of the bed for stability but could stand all on his own. Keith looked to Lance in surprise, and maybe also a bit of confusion.

“Uh, Lance, isn't it?” Keith grinned awkwardly just to keep it friendly.

Lance glanced from Keith’s eyes and down to the bed, only to come back up to the same pair of eyes with uncertainty. Shouldn’t he already know this? After all, they have been going to the same school and shared the same advanced science classes for the past two years in a row. Lance didn't really think he was a person someone would forget.

“Er, yeah,” Lance muttered and dropped the blanket to rub the back of his head where it had hit the wooden furniture and winced. “And uh, it’s Keith… right?”

Yeah, of course it’s Keith… Lance just wanted to know if _he_ knew that. Keith lifted an eyebrow in confusion giving Lance a quick once over.

“We haven’t met before yesterday have we?”

Just having him say that made Lance’s ego deflate like a balloon. It was one thing to maybe forget his name, or maybe even his beautiful face. But their _legacy_? In complete seriousness, Lance felt like this was a real punch to the stomach.

He pretended to think really hard on the question and cleared his throat, “Yeah, uh, we’ve gone to school together for the past two years… I think...?”

Lance felt Keith’s piercing glance look him up and down once again but then shrugged and looked to the ground. Once Lance felt the eyes taken off him he started observing the room once again, and taking a deep breath.

“So do you mind me asking what I’m doing here?” Lance asked delicately, looking out one of the two windows that sat across from the twin. Lance chuckled trying to break the weird, silent, and tense, atmosphere in the room, “You didn’t kidnap me or anything did you?”

“Oh,” Keith became more tensed up then he was before and strictly avoided Lance’s eyes. “God, no… uh, well it happened really fast. It’s kind of hard to explain.” He stumbled to piece all the words together. “Like you just seemed to jump out of nowhere and I ended up being a getaway driver because a cop just-”

“Ooo,” Lance cooed sarcastically, cutting Keith off in the middle of his sentence, placing a hand on his hip but then came into sudden realization. “That’d make sense though,” he started and then placed the hand from his hip up to his head, trying to remember details. “Last thing I remember was being at this party and the police were just crawling _everywhere_ so I jumped the fence and took off running into town.”

“Huh,” Keith hummed unimpressed. “That would also explain how hammered you were.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest. “You literally thought I was your sister or something.” Keith himself chuckled at the memory but Lance seemed to be completely quiet.

_Mostly because that’s when Lance’s brain decided to go into full panic mode._

_His sister never picked him up. And his mamá… oh dear god._

“Oh shit.” Lance gave himself a quick pat down to find nothing but his wallet in the jean fabric. “My mamá, is going to murder me." he whispered, "Like pick me up and throw me out the nearest window when I get home, sort of- _shit_.” Lance groaned. Looking around the room more frantically either for his phone or any other exit besides the door Keith stood at.

In the three seconds it took Keith to realize Lance’s situation, watching his every action until, he himself begun to dig around in his pockets for his own phone only to realize nothing was there.

“If you need to call home or someone we have a landline downstairs?” Keith suggested, presenting the door to Lance.

Lance took one more glance around the room, even looking under the sheets before nodding his head and stumbling to keep up with Keith down the stairs which was just an immediate left out of the room he had been sleeping in.

The house seemed so bright due to the drawn curtains hitting every white surface- which seemed to be just about everything in the whole house, give or take a few soft blues, and pinks. Lord only knew that if any of his brothers or sisters were to step foot in this house it would be covered head to toe in dirt and grass stains.

Lance stood in the kitchen and took a seat on the bar stool, which was surprisingly not white, but a very nice light blue color which was a nice change from the rest of the furniture. Keith went to the window to close the blinds, which helped for the most part but, to Lance, it still felt as if his eyes were trying to escape from his head.

“Aspirin?” Keith offered, his hand rummaging through an overhead cabinet, pulling out two pill bottles. Lance nodded stretching his hand forwards and allowing three tablets to enter his palm. His other hand found its way to the back of his head where he had hit it and where it was definitely going to leave a huge bruise.

Keith grabbed two glasses from another cabinet from the other side of the kitchen and filled them both half way with water, sliding one of the glasses across the island and into Lance’s hand. Popping the pills in his mouth, he took a swig of water down with it and groaned. He watched Keith do about the same thing, only to pour the rest of his water into the sink.

“So, uh, I’m really sorry about all of this,” Lance looked up with an apologetic tone in his voice. Keith raised an eyebrow. “I’m probably not what you had planned on your Friday night.” Lance laughed nervously enough to have Keith break a smile.

Today in general was just such a strange experience. Any other day and Lance would be staring at the back of Keith’s head. Maniacally planning to throw wadded up pieces of paper into his stupid mullet, or maybe bribing the kid who sat behind Keith to kick his chair every twenty seconds to slowly drive the guy insane. And don’t get him wrong- Keith completely fucked him over two years ago. It was the main reason why Lance felt this was all some sort of scam. Because at this point Lance wasn’t exactly sure who the kid standing across from him was. It was just too weird. Too uncharacteristic. It just wasn’t the annoying, know-it-all Keith he knew. Maybe it was just weird seeing him in a different light outside of school is all… Lance only sort of wished Hunk was here to see this all unfold.

Keith looked to the wall behind him and picked up the phone, handing it over to Lance who just looked completely out of it. Keith cleared his throat and extended the phone closer to Lance who swiped the phone out of his had the moment it was noticed.

Lance didn’t even bother thinking through what he was going to say to his mamá, probably for the fact that he was going to face a huge shit storm when he got home anyways- regardless of what he said.

The phone rang about two times before the familiar voice of, not his mother, but Lance’s youngest brother answered.

“McClain residence, this is Tony, how may I help you.”

“Heyy buddy!” Lance bantered, looking to Keith who had a befuddled look to his face. “Uh, is mom home?”

“Lance?” Tony questioned. “Where the hell are you?” Lance sighed at this.

“Anthony, you’re literally seven you shouldn't be saying swears.” He lectured, now fiddling with his new bruise again, “Anyways, where’s mom?”

“Shopping. Now you answer my question.” Lance could hear the poutiness in his younger brother’s voice. “Where the _heck_ are you.”

“Since you asked so politely; I’m at a uh,” He took another glance to look at Keith, who was practically eavesdropping over the entire conversation thus far. “Just at a friend’s house. I stayed overnight.”

His brother gave a disappointed sighed into the phone. “Dang, we all thought you'd be calling from prison…” Anthony paused then started laughing. “Elise came to get you from your party but she said the police were there so she didn't even bother.”

Lance felt his hands clam up around the phone and fell silent. “Does mom know?”

Another disappointing sigh came over the phone.

“Sadly,” He paused. “... No.”

Immediate relief flooded Lance’s body. He quickly had to thank every god he could think of on the spot. Only to have his stomach drop within the next two seconds.

“But yanno, that all could change!”

Lance’s smiling face was now a panicked one.

“Nonono, Tony,” Lance gripped the phone tighter. “Don't tell mom.”

“Well~” Lance could feel that greedy little grin his brother had through the phone. “I wouldn't tell because I actually like you Lance… But Elise would!”

Lance groaned, feeling like hitting his forehead against the countertop. Why did his family have to be so… _McClain_ …

“Then tell her not to tell! How about that?” Lance pleaded. This was when Keith just sort of walked away from the amusing conversation and filled the coffee pot with water.

“Mehh,” Anthony hummed over the phone line. “I don't know if I’m properly motivated.” He sang.

“You are an absolute fucking troll.”

“Yep, I know! But I gotta pay the bills somehow!” Tony snickered.

“You're seven you don't pay for anything.” Lance stated with disbelief. Conned by his own little brother. Lance could feel Keith trying not to laugh in his peripheral. This was all kind of disheartening. Lance sighed for the upteenth time.

“I’ll give you fifteen big ones.” Lance gave.

“I want fifty.”

“Fifty??” Lance cried. “What are you going to spend fifty dollars on you're-”

“Seven? Yeah I know, it's like I know my own age or something.” Anthony sassed, cutting him off.

“I feel attacked.”

“Then, man, I guess you really want me to tell Elise to tell mom?”

Lance paused in hesitation. “Under my bed, there's a box. You take fifty, and nothing more.” He muttered a warning under Anthony’s cheering on the other side of the phone. “Take any more and I will know, you turd.”

“Thank ya very much Lancealot! I’ll make sure to remind Elise not to tell.” …

“… Remind? As in she already knew not to-”

“Oh, uh,” Tony stammered letting out a nervous laugh. “Well! Looks like the tea’s come to a boil! Gotta blast Lance! See you at home!” The phone was quickly hung up and Lance cursed under his breath. Keith stared down to the poor guy who had buried his head in his arms on the table.

“Lost fifty bucks?” Keith asked, already knowing the answer. Lance nodded, poking his head out.

“Do you not have any siblings or anything?” Lance asked out of dismay from his own loss, but also out of curiosity.

“I’d hope not.” Keith snapped and raised his eyebrows pouring a cup of coffee and handing it over to Lance. Confusion littered his face.

“Why not?” Lance asked, “They're actually pretty okay when they're not stealing your money or clothes.”

“I dunno,” Keith said getting more annoyed by the second. He had never really thought of it before and didn't really want to for a few good reasons. “They just seem a little burdensome I guess.” Lance rolled his eyes.

Keith watched Lance blow the steam and take a sip of the coffee, to almost immediately, like it was poison, rejected it back out. Lance smacked his lips together, helping delude the bitter taste of the coffee.

“Damn,” Lance breathed as if he had just swallowed sand. “Any creamer?”

Keith’s eyebrows shot up and looked back and forth from the kitchen counter like he couldn't decide where the creamer would even be. And for the fact that even Lance, a proud Cuban, couldn't drink this shit-- just wow.

“Er, sorry, I usually just drink it black.” Keith apologized handing him a carton of half-n-half. A statement like that didn't really surprise Lance. Since Keith, to Lance, was just a plain-jane kind of guy.

Very predictable for the most part, but as Lance noticed, it seemed to only be an outer shell. The other part of Keith was completely shrouded in mystery to a point where Keith could have been an iron, high security vault in a past life. And Lance just wanted to pick the lock for a little longer.

Lance fixed his coffee to be a nice shade of caramel and even noticed Keith had poured himself his own cup. Lance continued to drink it because, hey, beggers can’t be choosers. Lance could only handle half the cup before he felt like he could spew pure coffee grinds. Keith obviously had to be some alien or science experiment gone wrong to actually like this stuff.

“Hey, um, I really hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to drop you off at home or something.” Keith conversed, taking another sip of his tar. Lance thought about it for a good minute until he nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“That sounds fine to me,” He yawned, but on the inside, he was more baffled by how he could feel all sleepy and comfortable after taking a twelve hour nap and being rudely woken by his rival that apparently didn’t even know he existed. If anything he should've been up and aware, especially after that coffee. “That is if _you_ don’t mind or anything.” He added.

“I just said I didn’t mind,” Keith stated. “It’s fine, I can drive you.” Keith avoided Lance’s eyes as he took the last mouthful of the coffee, placing the empty cup in the sink. Lance picked his head up from the table and stretched his arms across it as if he were some sort of cat and glanced about the room, until keeping eye contact with a tiny stone lion that sat next to the fireplace.

“Where’d your parents say they were going?” An innocent enough question only to keep their conversation going, but Keith only sighed, giving a one worded answer of, “Out.” Lance broke off his staring contest from the lion to focus his eyes back over to Keith who only looked slightly aggravated by the question.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Lance crossed-examined, staring. Keith turned his head to the question.

“They’re not my parents.” Keith said firmly, grabbing a pair of keys from a fridge magnet. Lance hopped off the bar stool and found his shoes sitting next to others. Keith eventually followed over to the other pairs, shoving them onto his feet, letting almost half his foot fall out the back as Lance took his good old time tying his shoes like a normal person. Keith waited by the door at the end of the hallway.

“So,” Lance sang, chasing after him, “If they aren’t your parents then who are they?” He Inquired a simple enough question. “Aunt and Uncle? Really young grandma or something? Your cousin and her girlfriend?” Lance coughed. “Because there’s nothing wrong with that I just-” Keith stopped in his tracks before opening door.

“Do you... have an off button?” Keith looked over his shoulder and Lance inhaled as if to say something, until Keith turned to face him. “Look, I really don't talk about my family- mostly because they just don’t exist to my knowledge. And if you still don’t have a clue who the people living in the house are- I’m in the foster system.” He said in mockery, speaking his last sentence as if he were explaining it to a three year old. Keith exhaled and opened the garage door, leaving Lance shocked in the doorway who didn’t even dare to respond to an outburst like that because... _damn_.

In that moment Lance didn’t know what to say to something like that. Mostly because, family was the only thing he knew and the fact that Keith just didn't have one was an eye opener. This visit was messing with his head too much.

1 ) Keith (douche) Kogane is an actual decent human being who saved him from being arrested  
2 ) Let Lance stay in his house instead of dropping Lance out on the side of the road  
3 ) Then presumed to take care of him after the fact  
4 ) Is actually adopted or something???

All in all, Keith was just… a weirdly normal guy with a few family problems. Though his said ‘family problems’ didn't really excuse him from being a mega asslord.

Lance staggered down two stairs and onto the garage floor and from around the corner came Keith gripping a motorcycle’s handles. Lance shook his head side to side, his headache worsening.

“Now jus-”

“No,” He held his hands out in defense. “There's no way I’m getting on that.” Lance crossed his arms, causing Keith to furrow his brow.

“You got on it last night?” Keith countered, and Lance looked to him in shock.

“Okay, one; I was wasted out of my fucking mind last night, and two…” he searched for another reason. “I’m just not getting on that thing.”

Keith sarcastically put a hand to his chest, gasped, grinning at Lance.

“That's not the first time someone’s told me that.” he said, “I can convert just about anyone to ride Red.” Keith patted the seat proudly.

“You named the bike?” Lance asked, unmoved by the fact. Keith put down the kickstand to grab helmets without answering Lance’s question and came back with something that made Lance cringe inwardly but also made him feel nostalgic at the same time.

One helmet being a badass, red, full face mask and the other being… _a blue power ranger’s bike helmet for Kids™._

Lance’s eyes widened and he looked to Keith giving him a questionable glance, practically saying, ‘This is a joke right?’ though Keith responded with a shake of his head.

“I’m not getting on it, Keith.” Lance said in a half-serious voice. Keith hummed at this.

“I mean,” He clicked his tongue, “I guess you're not going to get home in time before your mom gets there.” Keith paused, letting his statement sink in. "I wonder what your sister told your mom?"

This of course caught Lance’s attention because what exactly _did_ Elise tell his mamá when she came home without him last night. He groaned into his hands, his face turning red in frustration.

Lance was more convinced than ever that today hated him. He stomped straight to Keith, snatching the power ranger's helmet from his fingertips and swung his leg over the bike. Crossed arms, looking forwards, Lance thought that his day definitely couldn't get any worse than this.

"I hate you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> operation; too many people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aagh this is a little late by a few hours but here's 1/2 of what I wrote for this chapter. Tryna figure out how to word the other half atm so you guys are gonna have to bear with me lmao. In better news, I've p much already got the 2nd half of this finished just have to proof read so it should be up either really late today or tomorrow C:

It was a rather short drive to Lance’s house. The charming, 1-story, colonial style home about a block away from the school. Fully equipped with a tire swing that hung off a large oak in front of the house.

Other things complimented the house, such as the picket fence that surrounded the small garden of wildflowers that engulfed a good portion of the front porch and even climbed up the gutters and along the side of the house. Another thing about the place was just the many scattered toys, scooters, and bikes that littered the yard and driveway. To Keith it was surprising to see that a messy place like this could be so… warm… maybe friendly was the word.

Lance had apologized for the hundredth time and thanked Keith probably twice that amount. After his death defying experience on ‘Red’, (as Keith called it (her?)) and the other things Keith had done to help him, Lance presumed that a thank you was definitely in order. Though he could admit that this situation could've gone a lot smoother than it did.

For example; this story could've gone a entire different direction if it were a beautiful young woman that would have rescued him instead. Nonetheless, Lance was still grateful that Keith happened to be in the right place at the right time. And don't get him wrong, Lance would rather end up with him than in police custody any day.

As for Keith, it felt accomplishing just to have someone say ‘Thank you so so much I really owe you a lot, just, thank you!’ to him. After not hearing that for a pretty long time, you really appreciate it when it does happen. It also felt pretty good to say that Keith had somewhat successfully made an acquaintance out of Lance.

Or that's at least how Keith thought of it.

He couldn't put his finger on it but… Lance just seemed all too familiar of Keith. Almost as if they had know each other for a long time, only, Keith  _ knew _ they had never spoken before hell broke loose last night. And he wasn't going insane either, because Keith would at least remember a face or  _ something _ . Right? Lance just had a certain attitude about him made up of pure sarcasm. Which almost made it seem like he had already took the time to warm up to Keith. And because of that slight warm feeling Lance gave off, it really made Keith wonder if they had crossed paths before or if Keith had acted like… Keith in front of him. He shook his head in some disagreement.

Point of the matter; Lance knew Keith somehow. Though, Keith just didn't know  _ Lance _ . And for some reason it really bothered him.

After dropping off Lance at his house, Keith went straight home to wait for his fosters to come back from their Saturday errands that were going to take ‘an hour’. AKA- all day. When minutes became hours of waiting, Keith got aggravated having to sit around for nothing special.

Ironic enough, his fosters were called Pam and Teddy Banks who were actual bankers. The people just couldn't stand  _ not _ being in their office, as they were true workaholics. More time in the office, even more time away from home. So it wasn't Keith’s fault that he wasn't very close to them. Another reason they weren't very close was that Keith had the slightest suspicion that the Banks… were in the witness protection program. But we're not going to talk about that.

Okay  _ but _ … who  _ really  _ had the last name ‘Banks’ and were  _ actually _ bankers. That’s unreal.

In all seriousness, Keith found them to be really nice people. Kept the house clean and went to work like normal people. Especially Pam.

She was definitely Keith’s favorite of the two. She was an excitable person and always dressed nice, which Keith thought to be very professional, for her, a she was only someone in their late 20s. Red hair, brown eyes, always smiling and  _ always _ wearing a pant suit. That was Pamela.

Ted on the other had seemed to be the opposite of her- which Keith really didn't like. He was a large, menacing looking man with a thin head of hair and but a thick mustache that just didn't make him look like a… Teddy. That right there was Keith’s strongest piece of evidence towards his witness protection program theory  _ and  _ he planned to gather even more towards it. Ahem.

**-“Keith!”**

A message appeared on Keith’s phone and recognized it as Pam’s icon.

**-“Couldn't finish our errands this morning, got caught up at the office LOL.”**

**-“Anyways, would you mind picking up a few things for me and dad? Thank you!”**

Keith sighed looking down at the text. Of course that's what happened. He texted back a quick reply and moments later a long list of groceries was sent to him. All the essentials. Milk, eggs, dish detergent, and the like. And before he even knew it, Keith was slowing to stop behind a semi-truck next to the now infamous DeMichaels.

“Why do they even let these things in the square?” Keith muttered to himself, sighing into his helmet. He looked into the alley beside the coffee shop to see a blank wall at the back of it. Keith could only just make out that there was another alley that connected the two together, making DeMichaels completely separated from any other building on the square, it being on a corner and all.

Why was it detached? Keith never really knew since he didn't go on one of those class field trips to walk around the town square in the 3rd grade. Though Keith could only think that a fire or something must've burnt it down.

The alley that Lance ran through seemed as pitch dark as it did last night. Though now instead of Lance there sat a pair of blue trash cans and-

The car behind him honked its horn having Keith jerk forwards and rush off, not even noticing the truck ahead had already left him. There was something bothering him about that alley that just didn't feel right. Just one stop wouldn't really hurt him  _ that _ much.

He had circled around the block and came to park in a space a few spaces away from the alley, walking closer to it just enough to peek his head inside.

‘Wow, deja vu’, he mused, taking a step inwards.

Was this a creepy thing to do? Going back to the crime scene? The answer was yeah.

Was it so hard for Keith just to let it go? Also; yeah it kinda was. Keith  _ loved _ mysteries. Probably more than anyone in the country too. And it just so happened that Lance, himself, was a mystery.

Keith whistled looking at the dirty walls and the like inside the alleyway, but the thing to catch his eye the most was the  _ phone _ that sat in the middle.

Keith’s eyebrows shot up, ‘No. The Lance thing is over. It's none of your business. No mystery here. Just go  _ home’ _ , he pleaded to himself, taking a step or two away from the phone.

However, was Lance even smart enough to know where his phone could’ve fallen out? From what Keith knew, the last thing Lance remembered was him hopping some fence and frantically making a run for it. Keith sighed, taking off his helmet and walked to the phone, rubbing the dirt off of it. He pressed the power button and watched the screen light up, showing a picture of Lance with an arm hooked around a german shepherd.

Lance’s phone showed (2) missed calls from a girl named Elise, which if Keith could remember correctly was his sister and about (5) missed calls from some guy named ‘Hunk the HUNK’, along with several messages from a group chat of only two other people. One of them being Hunk (the hunk) and another person named Pidgeotto.

Not wanting to snoop any more than he had to, Keith looked both ways before shoving the phone into his back pocket and walked out from the alley, gaining a few strange glances from the elderly but continued to place the helmet back onto his head, get on his bike, and drive back and loop back around to Lance’s house.

Keith sighed, riding down the road he was just hours ago. He thought hard on what house the McClains lived in, pulling into the charming little house with the tire swing and wildflowers.

He yanked the helmet off his head once again and set it on the seat of the bike, then brushed a hand through his hair.

Drop off the phone and leave. Drop off the phone and leave.

In his short walk up to the front porch, it almost felt like eyes were following him from a window that sat in front of the house, which made him stiff as a board walking up the stairs. He didn't really know how to explain it but the McClain household was now much more intimidating than he once remembered it-

The front door swung open without Keith even having to knock or even ring the doorbell. Though instead of a brother, father, or even mother answering the door, stood a girl no more than five years old.

“Uh,” Keith stammered. When was the last time he talked to a kid? “Hi?”

The little girl’s eyes lit up. This was very obviously Lance’s little sister. Freckles lined her entire face and arms. And Keith couldn’t help but notice the same dark blue eyes poking out from under her bangs.

“Hi!” She smiled widely waving a hand at him. “I’m Abby!” Abby stated proudly now putting a hand to her hip. “Are you Lancelot's friend or Elise’s...  _ friend _ .”

“Oh, uh,” Keith smiled. “I guess Lance’s?” He held in a snicker. Did everyone in this family call him ‘Lancelot’?

“Oooo!” She cooed happily and reached forwards to grip Keith’s hand. “Come in, come in, come in! If you’re Lancelot’s friend you gotta be my friend too!” Keith’s eyebrows shot up, wanting to protest as he was being dragged into the house, though he couldn’t find it in his heart to say no to the little girl pulling him into the room.

Abby ran to close the door behind them while Keith took a moment to look around the beautifully colored house. They had entered the front door which immediately lead into a cozy family room. From the family room there stood a beautiful kitchen with wooden cabinets, pots and pans, the whole sha-bang. Another hallway also emerged from the left of the kitchen. Cozy was a good word for the interior of the house.

“Uh, Lance is here right?” Keith inquired looking about the family room. One wall blue, the other a pale yellow, blue, yellow. “I just came to drop something off.” He said taking his eyes off of the family’s belongings and down to Abby.

Abby shrugged her shoulders and put a finger to her freckled forehead.

“I think that either Hunk or Pidgey picked him up five minutes ago.” She nodded sadly. Keith raised an eyebrow. Didn’t he just drop him off not even two hours ago? This guy needed to be put on a leash.

“But that’s okay because you can still play with me!”

Keith opened his mouth as to say something but quickly shut it as another McClain child walked into the kitchen carrying a water glass. He stopped in the middle of the room and raised an eyebrow at Keith, to which Keith gave the same look in return. He guessed this to be the Tony that Lance was talking to on the phone earlier with.

Keith started sensing a pattern with the kids of this family, seeing that they all resemble each other in some way, though Tony may have just been an exact replica of whatever Lance looked like as a seven year old, down to the haircut, clothes, eyes. The only thing setting the two, and maybe the whole family apart, was a large birthmark that covered a good amount of his cheek.

“Abigail, who is that?”

“This is!” She stopped, looking to the ground with bewilderment then up to Keith’s eyes. “ _ You didn’t tell me your name… _ ” she whispered.

“Oh,” He started, “ _ It’s Keith _ .” Keith whispered back to Abby with a small grin.

“Keef!” Abigail excitedly squeaked. “He says- He said that he’s Lance’s friend and he was gonna play with me!”

This obviously caused a little confusion on Tony’s part, moving his eyes from his little sister to Keith. He raised a heavy brow. Keith quickly shook his head back and forth mouthing “Nonononono.” He dug into his pocket to present Lance’s phone.

“Oh!” Anthony breathed. “I was gonna say you look a little too old to be playing with Barbies.” He grinned toothily all still while missing a front tooth, and rolled his eyes to his sister who’s face went red with anger upon hearing this.

“Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean he can’t play with Barbies, Anthony!” She pouted. “Right Keef?” Abby looked up to him with big blue eyes. Tony looked also looked to him, expecting an answer.

“Uh, yeah?” He said pretty sure of himself. Anthony rolled his eyes again, continuing with dumping his water glass in the sink and leaving it there.

“Don’t keep giving into her,” Anthony said before exiting. “She can brainwash you with her eyes.” The two made eye contact.

To this Abby stuck her tongue out to Tony, puffing out her cheeks and giving a raspberry. Tony returned the gesture, only pulling down the bottom part of his eyelid instead of blowing a raspberry. This amazingly was enough for Abby to run towards her other brother, only for him to full on sprint away down the hall that connected to the kitchen, his sister now after him.

Now leaving Keith behind, he thought this was the most opportune time to get the hell out of there.

That was until a small, curvy woman walked through the door. There were more?

Her hair being the same as all of the other McClain children, though as she turned to look Keith in the eyes, instead of dark blue sapphires were a dark brown, almost a black color. The woman carried many paper bags in her hands as if she just came from a shopping spree. She wore a thin scarf that wrapped up her hair and neck along with a pair of nice sunglasses, however, Keith could still tell she was rather estranged by his presence.

Abby came running back into the room with tear in her eyes as she ran up to hug the woman. Keith only stood there in silence.

“Mamá!” She cried, “Tony pulled my hair a-and he made a mean face like this,” Abby imitated the face her brother made, pulling a bottom eyelid down and making a nasty face and showing it to her mother. A warm smile arose on her cheeks.

“Tony?” Mamá called into the hallway, which triggered a pair of footsteps to march down the hall.

“Mamá, whatever she told you isn't true!” Tony yowled back almost in tears. Abby begun to sob.

“It is Mamá! It is!” She cried, “Pulled me right here.” The mother’s tongue clicked.

“Anthony…” She said sternly. Tony’s face was red and stressed.

“Fine!” Tony threw his arms up into the air. “You don't even have to say it! ‘Room! Now!’” He mocked in a high pitched girlish voice, to which Mamá face grew sour. She sighed as the boy trudged back to his room and her daughter hugged her tightly. Mamá then turned a warm smile to Keith.

“I’m sorry about him.” She apologized, letting go of Abby’s grip. “And I don't believe we’ve ever met before, young man!”

“That's Keef!” Abby said happily hopping from her mother’s arm to Keith’s leg and looking up to him with giggly eyes.

“Uh,” Keith smiled looking down to the girl and back up to Mamá. “Keith.”

“Oh!” Mamá said joyously. “One of Lance’s friend’s I bet?” Keith nodded.

“I just came to drop off his phone and I kinda got dragged in.” He explained, giving Abby’s head a pat.

“Huh,” Mamá hummed in confusion. “I could've sworn Elise told me he was spending the night at Hunk’s place.”

“Oh, uh,” Keith thought for a moment, “I was also... there… last night with uh, Lance and Hunk.”

“Did Pidge not go?” She asked a sincere question looking to him with concern.

“Pidge?” Keith scoffed. “Oh yeah definitely. Can't believe I forgot to mention… them.”

Keith stood there laughing a bit nervously, digging the hole even deeper than it was before and definitely more than it needed to be. Mamá’s face still held a perplexed look.

“Sorry, Keith, but how long have you known my Lance?” She asked with a kind smile. “I don't think he’s ever mentioned you before?”

And the hole went deeper still. Keith scratched the back of his head.

“About two years?” That's what Lance said right? “But, uh, we’ve been more like acquaintances until now…” Mamá nodded her head in understanding.

“Well then, Keith!” She said happily adjusting the bags under her arms, “If you’re a friend of Lance’s, you're certainly welcome here! You may call me Mrs. McClain or Mamá is just fine.” Keith smiled down to her, reaching down to take three bags of the groceries from her arms.

“Thank you Mrs. McClain...”

“Oh, no no. Thank you, Keith!”

Mamá, as Keith saw her, was without a doubt a very kind, strong soul. She definitely had a very good hold over the children and especially the house despite being middle aged, and provided a lot of spunk into the family. Spunk that just made Keith just a little nervous in the house and made it really hard to  _ lie _ without sputtering. Though, Mamá’s spunk also made Keith feel like she knew what she was doing. A sort of confidence that he only saw in mothers.

“Mamá?” Abby piped up after Keith had set down the paper bags. “When can Kee-th come ‘n play with me?” She over pronunciated.

“Uhm,” She sang, “I think I’m going to sit down and get to know him a little better.” Mamá winked at him and Abby sighed, pouted, and sat on the floor of the kitchen as Mamá put groceries away in their corresponding places. Keith held his breath, though still smiling. “Now, now. I never said you couldn’t join, Abigail.”


End file.
